


Innamorata - Tis The Season

by supersoakerx



Series: Innamorata [3]
Category: The Man Who Killed Don Quixote (2018)
Genre: Alcohol, Book-ended with domestic fluff wtf is happening to me??, Christmas, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, voluptuous!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: You try to put the Christmas tree up, but Toby doesn’t let you get very far.
Relationships: Toby Grisoni/Reader, Toby Grisoni/You, Toby Grummett/Reader, Toby Grummett/You
Series: Innamorata [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911028
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	Innamorata - Tis The Season

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a bit of a sneak peak at the next Xmas story I want to do with Toby b/c I’m weak for him right now!!  
> Also tagging for over-use of commas. My bad  
> I hope you enjoy this! x

“Hmmm,” Toby hums quietly, smiling, as he watches you reach up on your tip toes to put another decoration on the tree.

“Just a little higher, _tesorina_ ,” he says, half-encouraging and half-teasing, knowing every stretch skyward puts your lower half on display for him—calves, thighs, and _that ass_.

You hook the shiny red bauble onto a bare branch with a short sigh of satisfaction. “This would be a lot quicker if you came and helped me, Toby,” you say, reaching into the box of decorations and pulling out a glittery emerald green bauble.

“Now why would I want to rush this, my darling?” He tilts his head just subtly to the side as he surveys you, his brow knitting together like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Lord above. The thickness, the roundness, the dots and dimples, all the lines and marks. He loves that there’s a lot of you, loves that there’s so many places he can hold, and squeeze, press his lips and murmur praises to.

His voice goes deeper, and he draws out his words as you lift up to place the sparkling plastic ball on another unadorned tine. “When I am so, dearly, enjoying the view.”

You look over your shoulder at him. On one hip Toby leans casually on the kitchen island. It’s black quartz, with subtle grey veining, and it waterfalls down both sides to meet the sandy-grey herringbone flooring below.

In one hand, a highball filled with ice, pale fizzing amber, and a lime wedge on top.

You recognise it, one of his favourite drinks to make himself, when he’s at home: vodka and ginger beer.

“Come give me a taste of that, Toby,” you murmur, flicking your chin in his direction.

Toby leans up off the island. With raised, inquiring brows he points at his drink, then points at himself, a just barely contained grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

You can’t help a small chuckle, “c’m’ere, baby,” and crook your finger at him.

Toby hums a laugh, setting his glass down, “with pleasure, my love.”

Tobias Grisoni saunters over to you, relaxed in comfy, baggy at-home clothes. Although you shudder to think how many millions of dollars your penthouse home with Toby is really worth—especially after he’d added all those high-end finishes, asking for forgiveness rather than permission—he looks effortlessly at ease here, and always has.

His bare feet pad across the wood floor onto the plush rug in the living room, where you are, and you ogle him shamelessly. Light-weight, pale grey track pants line his legs and a cool powder blue v-neck tee adorns his top-half. Even the man-pony at the crown of his head is more relaxed, with a loose raven lock falling gently into his face.

“Heyy baby,” he croons, smouldering eyes raking over your form, your face; a soft smile playing at his lips as he leans into your space. His hands fight themselves, fidgety fingers flexing and furling into fists to stop from grabbing and pawing at you like all his instincts are telling him to do.

“What if I wanted some of that?” you say, flicking your eyes to the glass on the island and then back to meet his gaze, all burnt caramel and sardonyx crystal in the late afternoon light.

“Mm,” Toby hums, considering if what you’re saying is true, then presses in closer to you to say, “you want me more, don’t you, _tesorina_?”

“Hmm,” you narrow your eyes at him playfully, “I could be swayed.”

“Mmhmm,” agrees Toby, crowding down into your space even more, trailing his fingers down your arms before clasping your wrists and placing your hands on his shoulders. He bends and curls into you, murmuring, “and what would sway you, my beautiful _tesorina_?”

You run your palms along his shoulders and card your fingers through his hair, the locks so thick and soft to the touch. He trails large palms back down your arms, down the sides of your body, wrapping around to squeeze your ass cheeks in big warm handfuls. You sigh, “well…”

“Is it kisses?” Toby places a slow kiss to your jaw and murmurs, “here?” He places another small kiss, this one to the top of your cheekbone on the opposite side of your face, “maybe here?” He trails down and catches your earlobe between his lips, “here, baby?”

You hum a small laugh over his name, his affection warming you up all over.

“Aha,” he purrs, “I know where.” He skims across your throat with the tip of his nose, then grazes down until he murmurs over the point where your neck meets your shoulder, “this is the spot.” He squeezes your ass as he nuzzles in and presses slow, lingering kisses to your skin, grazing over the sensitive flesh with his lips and nose in between.

Your fingers fist in his hair as you sigh and tilt your head to the side, granting him more of you.

“Mmh,” Toby hums as he kisses up your neck. He smooths big warm circles over your ass cheeks and when he gets to your ear he whispers, “do you want me now, _tesorina_?”

You say his name—“Tobias,”—with the sexiest whispering drawl you have, and the man’s knees almost buckle. You slide your palms down his sides, nuzzle long his jaw and press a kiss just behind and below his earlobe, murmuring, “ _certamente_ , Toby.”

“Oh, baby,” he shivers, pulling you against him by your ass and pressing into your body with his hips, “you don’t know how turned on you get me when you talk like that.”

You hum a husky laugh, “I think I do, baby.”

“Mmm,” he groans, making his kisses hotter and wetter, licking over your skin as he trails from your neck to the corner of your lips. “My darling, let me kiss you here.”

“ _Sì_ , Toby,” you murmur, and he hums as he plants his lips onto yours: soft at first, sweet, slow caresses that dawdle into the next, before his appetite for your mouth turns hungry. He slips his big warm hands inside your comfy cotton shorts, groaning when he finds your cheeks bare underneath, and brushes up against your lips with his hot, wet tongue.

You moan as you open your lips to his, letting Toby lick into your mouth as you do the same to his. Toby slips one hand from your ass to cradle the back of your head, thick fingers twining in your hair; and it feels like he’s everywhere, all around you, holding you and supporting you completely as he kisses you deeply—with longing, with love.

He groans as he feels you melt into him, and starts to walk backwards, pulling you to close to his body as he treads back towards the blue suede chesterfield. “Come here, baby. Come sit with me,” he murmurs lowly before kissing you again; and you don’t know how he does it, how he pitches his voice so deep and quiet that it reverberates through every cell in your body, a resonant rumbling from his chest to yours.

Toby’s legs hit the couch and he tears from your lips to press kisses all over your neck, big hot sloppy noisy ones as his fingers dip down to untie the drawstring of your shorts. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and tugs them over your ample hips and luscious ass, kissing his way back up your throat to join his mouth with yours again, sighing through his nose.

You slide your hand along the front of his track pants, seeking out his need and when you find it—long and thick and hot, even beneath the layers—he hums into your mouth.

You should’ve known he would be. Toby always ran hot, in more ways than one.

You smooth your hand back and forth along Toby’s erection, stroking him through his clothes as he hums and sighs his approval. He releases your lips to murmur, “don’t tease me, darling.”

“Me? Tease you?” you reply huskily, releasing his hard dick to grip the side-seams of his pants, and so torturously slowly pull them down his hips, “Toby, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You say it so breathy and sweet, Toby feels himself get even stiffer, somehow. You make him so hard, he barely knows what to do with himself half the time.

Toby lifts off his shirt as you slide the waistband of his pants down, and he delights in your surprised expression when you find—Toby isn’t wearing any underwear either.

You gasp at the sight of him—tall and broad-shouldered, with subtly defined muscle beneath warm-toned olive skin flecked by beauty marks; and, pride of place, springing free to stand to attention between his legs…

You’ve been around the world, on many different modelling jobs, and even after all the dick you’ve seen in your travels—in your _life_ —not a one of them is as thick as Toby Grisoni. You can say in all truthfulness that Toby has the thickest cock you’ve ever laid eyes on—in fact, he loves when you tell him—and looking at it makes you salivate every time you get to fuck him. So swollen with desire, you can barely make a fist around the flushed, tawny-red shaft, with satiny-smooth foreskin decorated by thin ruddy-purple veins. The length of it tapers ever so slightly towards a pinkish red, flared head that is so damn close to the colour of his lips your throat clicks to taste him, to lick and kiss and suck every single spot on his body.

Funnily enough, he feels much the same way about you.

You wrap a hand around Toby’s straining cock, and the second his track pants hit the ground he cups both sides of your neck and ducks down to lock your mouths a steamy, passionate kiss.

Your palm glides along his _thick_ , long cock and it is so hot and smooth to the touch it makes you sigh, just _thinking_ about what it’s gonna feel like inside you.

Toby breaks the kiss, huffing breaths over your lips. “I need you now, _tesorina_. Wanna f-feel you, oh God,” cheeks clenching, he subtly rocks his hips into your palm, “wanna make you cum on me, baby.”

“You can, Toby, you can.”

“Yeah? You’ll siddown on my cock, baby?”

“Yes, Toby.”

Words tumble quickly from his mouth. “Love how you ride me, baby, will you ride me like I like?”

“ _Yes_ , Toby.”

“Mmmh.” Toby groans when he crushes his mouth to yours, licking ardently into your mouth as he scoops you into his arms and drops down onto the couch, pulling you down to straddle his sturdy, naked form.

You catch yourself on his broad chest, your palms pressing into his sturdy pecs.

Toby can’t help himself, ravaging your neck and throat with kisses and licks and nibbles that are wet and eager. He loves the feeling of all your weight on him, loves that his body’s built to take you, and it drives him fucking wild. He cages you with his arms, grabbing big handfuls of your ass cheeks to squeeze and massage your supple flesh.

You hum into his mouth, gripping his stiff cock again and sliding your palm along it.

“Gnahh.” Toby breaks the kiss with a rasping sigh, and, staring into your eyes he’s suddenly dumbstruck.

“God,” he huffs. He’s caught, _obsessed_ , and he brings a hand to yours working his dick and stills you, panting, gazing at you.

He sees it reflected in your eyes: the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows behind him lets in the light, and the sunset casts a glowing orange haze over the horizon, bathing the distant hills and palm trees in a deep purple hue as the lights of the city flicker to life.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, _tesorina_.”

You moan his name and press your mouth to his, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip as you bring your hands to clutch his shoulders.

Toby loves when you hold him like this. He lifts from your mouth only to press fervent, passionate, messy kisses to your jaw and neck—and you tilt your head back, letting him.

He cups one of your still-clothed breasts, murmuring, “you wet for me, baby?” onto your throat between kisses. With his other hand he skims down your rounded belly to dip between your bare legs, “your pretty pussy want my cock?”

He grazes your pussy lips with gentle touches. “Mmff _uck_.”

You gasp his name, starting to grind your wet slit on his fingers and pushing your breast into his palm.

Toby swipes his thumb back and forth across your stiffening nipple. He whispers your name into your ear, “wanna see all of you.”

You rock your pelvis against his digits. “Yeahh, Toby, mmhm.”

“Take it off, baby,” Toby says, his hand at your breast sliding down to knead one of your ass cheeks. He’s just gotta feel your soft, plump flesh in his palms, any chance he gets. He says, “show me those big tits, _mamí_ ,” right as he dips two fingers into your slick pussy.

You gasp and clutch his shoulders, your nails digging into his muscles in a way that jolts right through him, right to his cock.

“Yeah, baby, lemme see your titties. Show me, lemme see ‘em.”

You push off him, a shiver running up your spine as he works his fingers into your pussy and squeezes your ass. You pull your tee up over your head while Toby murmurs repeatedly for you to _take it off_ , and you make quick work of removing your thin, comfy, lazy-day-at-home bra.

“Ahh yeah,” he sighs, gazing at your bare breasts, his darkened eyes flicking between your budded nipples as his mouth waters at the sight, “ _molto bella_ , _tesorina_. So beautiful.”

“Toby,” you groan, drawing his name out—and your man knows what you need.

“Yeahh, I know, baby.” Toby grips your hip with one hand, and his cock with the other. He says, “lemme get it wet,” and glides the silky, blushing head of his dick through your cum-slick lips.

You gasp when he nudges into your clit.

“Yeah, right there, huh baby?” he says, doing it again, repeating it over and over and watching your face intently all the while. “That’s that good spot, right there.”

You tip your head back, and you get almost all the way through saying, ‘put it in me, Toby,’ before Toby lavishes your neck with searing, slippery kisses.

“Please, baby,” you moan, you both now grinding against each other with abandon. You bring your head forward and lock eyes with him, and it’s _intense_ —you see so much dark swirling desire in his lust-blown eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best pronunciation on him. “ _Ti prego_ , _bell’uomo_.”

“Ffuckhh,” Toby growls, catching your mouth in another heated, steamy kiss. He loves when you talk to him in the language of his family—one of the languages, anyway—and doubly so when you do it like _this_. His mouth and lips and tongue on yours are forceful, he’s devouring you, eating you whole and not caring when your teeth clack together. With haste he angles his dick towards the opening of your hot pussy. His senses totally overwhelmed by you, Toby groans into your mouth.

You feel the first nudging prod of his cock and you push down on him quickly, sinking eagerly onto his dick and breaking the kiss to gasp and sigh, “Tobias!”

“God! Shit, baby—you’re too fucking good to me.” Toby pushes his hips up into you as you grind down, the pair of you working to sheath his hard cock completely inside your wet pussy.

With panting grunts from him and breathy moans from you, you find a rhythm, rocking your pelvis and gripping tight onto Toby’s cock with your soft, snug, slippery pussy walls.

Raking your nails along his shoulders you cage him with your thick thighs and chunky calves, and Toby doesn’t know where to put his hands— _everywhere_ isn’t an option he can manage.

He sits up as you grind your hips, takes hold of your ass and the back of your neck, and latches onto that sensitive spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He assails your delicate flesh with his lips, his tongue, and then his teeth, rolling your skin between his incisors and—with noisy, panting breaths—letting his canines drag across, too. He soothes at the broken capillaries with his hot, wet tongue, relishing your moan of pleasure.

He kisses down your décolletage and you lean forward into him, gripping the sofa as you ride his dick and letting your breasts fall into his face.

“Christ, these tits,” he groans, cupping your warm, soft breasts in his palms, “made for my fuckin’ hands.” He massages the plush swell of your flesh and rubs his thumbs back and forth over your stiff nipples.

“Toby,” you cry out, starting to bounce in earnest now, lifting and rolling your pelvis.

“Yeahhh, baby. Give it to me.” He grunts and says, “bear down on me, _tesorina_ , I want it all—,”

You drag your pussy over his thick, fat cock, bucking your hips harder, faster.

“—hnnghh, _yeah_.” He cradles your ample breasts as they bounce, feels your meaty cheeks rebound off his sturdy thighs and watches your belly ripple and jiggle with the force of your thrusts. “Fuck, gimmegimmegimme,” he murmurs, holding your tits and subtly lifting. “Wanna taste ‘em.”

Gripping tight to his shoulders you arch your back, pushing your breasts towards him and subtly changing the angle of your pussy.

Toby groans as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. He licks up over the pigmented bud with the wet flat of his tongue, then points the muscle and flicks over your precious peak rapidly.

“God, Toby,” you moan, bouncing hard on his stiff, thick cock. You flatten your palms on his pecs for leverage, the muscles taught and skin hot under your fingers.

Toby pulls off your nipple and instantly makes for the other. He lolls his tongue around this one, before wrapping his lips around the little bud tight and sucking fiercely on it.

You moan loudly, nonsense words, a pleasured jumble of sounds as Toby smothers your breasts with his mouth.

He pulls back until the nipple he’d latched onto slips from his lips. His eyes are dazed, heavy with lust, but he finds your ass cheeks as if on auto-pilot, muscle memory, and gropes and squeezes your plump, yielding flesh like he can’t get enough of you. He helps lift you, helps bounce you on his slick-coated cock.

He says, “Fuck me just like that. Fuhhck me just like that, baby.”

“You like it like this, Toby?” you huff.

“Ahh fuck,” he laughs his pleasure through the words, his head tipping back. He mutters and it sounds like, ‘something little _farfallina_ something _’_ —but you don’t quite catch it.

“You like when I fuck you like this, baby?”

Toby grunts, a deep rumbling thing and says, “Keep fucking me like this ‘n’ I’m gonna cum in your little pussy, _tesorina_.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum, Toby?” You sit down on him hard, again and again, and squeeze him.

“Ughh _Christ_ ,” Toby grips your hips and pulls you down onto his cock, sheathing his throbbing dick fully and arresting your thrusts. “Shit, baby,” he huffs, pants, “I nearly fuckin’ blew it.”

You rock on him, needing the friction, and catch your breath. “That good, huh?” you smile cheekily at him.

He growls a curse under his breath, his eyes twinkling as you tease him, and at the same time pleading with you for mercy.

When all you do is broaden your cheeky smile into a smug grin, and bite your lip, Toby knows he’s fighting a losing battle.

He moves quickly, lifting you off him and kneeling down behind you on the rug on the floor, muttering for you to, “stay there, stay there, baby.” You grip the top of the chesterfield for support and Toby tugs your hips back towards him. “God I want to taste this pussy,” he murmurs, spreading your ass cheeks wide to blossom your pussy lips open.

He starts by kissing and licking and sucking and nipping your pretty little dimples, laving the supple, soft flesh of your thighs with attention and affection. His kisses trail upwards, inching closer and closer to your butterflied core. He breathes in the scent of your pussy, pulling the aroma of your arousal deep into his lungs.

“Pretty little pussy,” he croons, and his hot breath fans over your slick, swollen lips before he licks a long, firm line from your clit to your perineum.

You push back on his face, groaning, “ _yes_ , Toby.”

“Mmmff, baby,” he groans with delight into your core. Toby licks and laps at your pussy, getting your cum all over his nose and lips and chin. He swallows your sharp sweetness down eagerly, like he’s thirsty, with noisy grunts and sighs.

You loose a long, high moan, savouring Toby’s firm, wet tongue and hot exhales on your slippery, puffy lips.

Toby’s fingers squeeze your flesh. He spreads you wider, opens you right up until he can peer into your clenching depths within.

Then he points his tongue, and plunges into your tight, wet heat.

“Toby!” Your pussy seizes on his muscle, and Toby groans, deep and guttural.

He pushes into your pussy repeatedly, over and over, massaging your entrance and licking along your walls with his tongue; grazing your pussy lips with his own plush rosey-pink until you’re groaning.

Then he sinks a little lower, tilts the angle of his head so he can easily reach your clit, and wiggles his tongue back and forth across it, swiping across your swollen bundle of nerves with his tastebuds.

You shove back onto his face again, and Toby can resist you no more.

He shoots back up to standing, smearing your cum from his face before pressing his warm, solid front to your back. He crowds you, kneeling on the couch behind you, getting up close and pressing kisses across your shoulder, to the top of your spine, and to every inch of your neck he can reach. His arm sneaks under yours to rest on the top of the couch, and his other gives his cock a few experimental tugs.

No need, though. He’s stiff as ever—aching and ready for you.

He murmurs into your ear, his hot exhale gently puffing through your hair, “God you get me so fucking hard, baby.”

“Mmh,” you hum, sliding your body against his, “you gonna lemme feel it, Toby?”

“Ugh, fuck, so fuckin’ deep, _tesorina_. You’re gonna get it, baby. I’ll fuck you so deep, so good. Umf, baby, you’ll scream on my cock.”

You hum, sliding your hips until you bump into his fist, wrapped around his dick. “I’m ready, Toby.” You flick your head to the side, and breathe into his mouth, “Tobias, give it to me.”

He groans and angles his cock, slipping the swollen head into your pussy with a breathy huff and holding, keeping it there. His palms slide up your hips, skim across your belly and come to rest cradling your heavy breasts. He squeezes the warm, supple flesh of your tits in his palms, and rests his chin on your shoulder just as he slowly, gently, eases into your pussy with a long, drawn out groan into your ear.

You moan at being filled out again, “ _sì_ , Toby. Oh, yes.”

“Uhhngh, baby,” Toby grunts, dragging his cock out along your pussy walls before pushing right back in. He rolls his hips slowly, sensuously, and squeezes your fleshy breasts as he murmurs, “mmmh _tesorina_ , your pussy feels so good on my cock. Love your pussy like this, baby.” His dick at this angle subtly stretches your pussy, he can feel it, and the way your slick walls wrap and flutter around him almost brings tears to his eyes.

He sucks and nibbles on your earlobe, and you encourage him to give you more.

He groans into your ear, drawing his thrusts out into longer, deeper drags that start to bounce you against him. Your bodies connect on every other thrust with a slapping pop, and Toby leans his head against yours, his open mouth panting into your ear, his nose pressing into your hair.

He huffs and puffs, “your fucking pussy’s perfect, baby. Oh God. So fucking good.” He holds your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, and tweaks the stiff little buds with soft rolls and gentle pinches that spark pleasure in your clit.

You tell him how good he fucks you, and Toby thrusts into your harder, spurred on to please you even more and wring more sounds of pleasure from your throat.

You lock your arms tight to the top of the couch and hold firm, resisting the buffeting so the push and pull of his cock is amplified.

“Ohh yeah,” Toby groans, “oh _fuck_ yeah.” He lifts from your body and grabs your ample hips for leverage, able now to really pound into your pussy, deep and hard.

Matching Toby’s rhythm, you push back to meet his thrusts—and Toby almost chokes on his own tongue. Almost.

“Uhhf-fuck, baby,” he groans, landing a spank to one of your bouncing, jiggling cheeks, “fuck back on me like that— _shit_ yeah—do it, fuck me.”

You shove your hips back faster, sheathing him quicker, moans of pleasure and exertion falling from your lips.

“Ohh _yeahh_ ,” Toby groans loudly, throwing his head back while you fuck yourself on his thrusting cock. His head lolls forward, his mouth dropped open as he watches the incredible show you put on for him. “Just like that,” he murmurs, landing another spank to your rippling flesh before panting, “fuck me, fuck me.”

“Toby, God yes,” you moan, his thick cock rubbing up against your walls deliciously.

“Mmff. Fuck.” Toby takes hold of your hips, mindless to anything but the sweet, pulsing heat in your core and feeling more-more-all of it. He squeezes your flesh and rails into you hard, even faster than the rhythm you’d set, deep and making sloppy fleshy slapping sounds echo in the open-plan space. “Love fucking this pussy,” he grunts, pulling you back onto him as he pounds forward with fierce determination to fuck you _good_.

“Tohhbyy!” you cry out.

“ _Yes_! Fuhhck,” he groans as he lands a quick firm smack to one of your jiggling, bouncing cheeks before gripping your hip tight again, “say my name, baby.”

“ _Tobias_!”

Your scream of his name—his full name—just about triggers his orgasm. He knows he could reach around you and rub you off with him, knows by how your pussy is closing up that you’re getting close to breaking, too. But, Toby doesn’t want it to end like that. He wants to keep fucking you, loving you, for as long as he possibly can.

He knows that’s what you deserve, and he wants to give it to you.

With a shuddering groan he bottoms out inside you. “Wanna see your pretty face, huh baby?” he pants, and the slow thrusts he gives you next are deep, long drags. “I wanna see you, _tesorina_.” Now he rocks shallowly into you before thrusting in deep, holding there, and you shiver and clench on him from all the different sensations. “Ahshit—wanna see you when I make you cum.”

You hum and nod your assent, and Toby withdraws from you as he catches your mouth in a blistering, needy kiss, before shuffling around. You manoeuvre, lips locked, until Toby’s pressing and kissing you down to lie flat on your back on the couch, following you with a hungry mouth until your bodies are parallel.

“Show me that pretty face,” he murmurs, glancing over your features with hooded eyes before kissing you deeply again. “Ugh, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he murmurs, kissing down your chin to lavish kisses on your neck.

“Mm, Toby,” you hum.

“Yeah, baby. I know.” Toby grips his stiff, sticky cock and parts your lips with it, guiding it into your pussy. He knows exactly where he’s going and he slides into your wet, welcoming warmth easily, effortlessly, and groans into your neck.

“ _Yes_ , baby,” you groan. You’re ready, and you know he knows it.

Toby presses one more kiss just below your jaw, nips at your lobe, then rears back.

The sight of him steals your breath. More loose tendrils of hair have slipped from his pony, his cheeks and lips are flushed red, and his broad, tanned, beauty-marked chest looks so strong but so soft—just the way you know it feels.

Toby lifts one of your legs up and brings it to rest against his torso, your ankle at his shoulder. He rocks his hips, testing, and your sigh and arching back tell him he’s almost got it.

Toby grips your other leg at the back of your knee, folding your leg and holding it out to the side, spreading the wrap and suck of your pussy in a whole new way. He rolls his pelvis into yours, and when you gasp, “oh, Toby,” – he knows he’s there.

“This is it, huh baby?” he croons. “This is the spot.”

“Yeahh, baby,” you coo back to him, subtly lifting and rolling your hips to get him to move. When he does, drawing back and plunging deep into your pussy, you moan for him, “mmh, right there, Toby.”

“Mmmhh,” Toby hums, rolling and curving his hips, tilting the angle his cock to slide back and forth along your front-most walls. He licks his thumb and strokes it over your swollen clit, brushing the stiff bud upwards repeatedly. “Mmffh, my _tesorina_ ,” he purrs when he feels your pussy walls tighten around his thick cock. “Whenever you’re ready, baby. Whenever you want, you just cum on me.”

“Toby,” you gasp, your hands cradling your subtly rocking breasts, grazing over your nipples with your thumbs.

“Ohh yeah, baby. I’m right here.” The curl of his hips is deliberate, measured, deep, and he licks his lips, watching you play with your tits. “You do it, baby, right on my cock.” He rubs into your clit quicker, fucks into you a little bit faster.

You know your face is crinkled up in pleasure, know that when you moan it shoots straight through Toby’s dick.

He feels you seize, and the man is barely hanging on. He groans through clenched teeth, “yes. Yess, baby.” His fingers squeeze harder into the soft, yielding flesh at the back of your thighs, digits flexing as he pistons his hips to bring you to pieces on his dick.

Your pleasure ticks over and you gasp—it’s happening _now_. “Toby—I’m, I’m—,”

“Do it. Cum on me, baby. Lemme feel it on my cock.”

You yell his name loud as your orgasm washes over you. You squeeze and clench and clamp on his fat dick, muscles in your thighs and gut twitching and tensing.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, abandoning his hold on you to grab and squeeze your big tits in his big hands. He tweaks your nipples and ruts into your quaking pussy hard and fast to draw out your blissful spasms, and when your cry of his name reaches a fever pitch he loses his goddamn mind.

His orgasm overwhelms him, flooding his body with hot, liquid pleasure as he pumps white ropes into your slick, squeezing pussy. He shudders through it, _groans_ , with your name on his lips as he, in rapture, jerkily bucks his hips and fucks his cum into you. He’s so loud about it, moaning and grunting as you wring his orgasm from him.

Toby crashes his mouth to yours as the last of the spasms ease off. He eats your lips ravenously as his dick twitches deep inside you, your pussy draining his cock to the very last drop, milking his dick for everything he could possibly give you—and then some.

When, for both of you, the gushing clenching rush subsides, Toby pants hard into your neck. He tells you you’re beautiful, calls you his beautiful little treasure; at least, that’s what you can make out. Your Italian is rudimentary, and he was rambling praises with eloquent fluency.

You curl forward and press kisses to his shoulder, lingering on the little purple half-moons you’d left him, the ones that make him crazy with want.

He huffs, puffs, leans up. “C’m’ere.” He takes hold of your hands and pulls you up as he sits back on the couch. He drags you in to straddle his lap, and you make an oozing, sticky mess of each other.

Neither of you care about that, though. Not right now.

Toby smiles adoringly at you, his deep ochre eyes warm, hazy with pleasure, and full of love. “I can’t wait to show you off to my family,” he says, carding through your hair at your temple, brushing it back behind your ear and following the strands down to the ends. “They’re gonna love you,” he says, his tongue rolling over your name, his fingers toying with the ends of your hair.

You knew he’d been looking forward to this for a while now. You’d learned that Toby loved Christmas time, and his big Spanish-Italian family did too. You had plans to visit them on Christmas Day, where you’d meet his parents—and, he’d said, pretty much all of his relatives, too—for the first time.

“When I told Ma I was bringing you she lost her shit,” he says, a big grin plastered on his face as he remembers the screeching and shrieking that damn near deafened him through the phone. Most of all, Toby was excited for you to meet his grandmother—his _abuelita_ , on his mother’s side—but maybe, letting you know about that was for another day. He knows his family can be… a lot.

You manage a small, wistful smile. You wish you could share his excitement, but as December drew nearer nerves had been poking holes in your glee—and now, you were _in_ it. You bite your lip. “Baby… do you really think they’ll like me?”

He slants his head, his eyes and brow narrowing and furrowing in disbelief for a moment, before, shaking off the very idea of such a preposterous thing, his features soften. “ _Tesorina_ ,” he places a hand to the side of your neck, running the pad of his thumb along your jaw as he looks deeply, imploringly, into your eyes. “They’ll _adore_ you.”


End file.
